Misplaced
by clemonlime
Summary: Four dates in which Spencer felt like an outlier, and one that he didn't.


1:

Their first date was awkward, as most first dates often were, but this was different even by those standards. This was a first date at the bar of a hotel at eleven in the evening with his boss that he wasn't sure was knowledgeable of the fact that this was indeed a date, and he intended it as one when he asked to pick his brain over some drinks.

Hotch was already there when he arrived and had already ordered him something and all he had to do was sit down on the rickety swivel-stool next to his boss. His boss, of whom was very good at hiding his emotion because of his line of work and of whom could definitely read Spencer like a kindergarten-level book. The concept of a mind-reader had never bothered him that much because inter-team profiling was against the rules, but it hadn't stopped anyone before.

A black mug of coffee with the hotel's emblem printed on the side was placed in front of him. Spencer grimaced, but he sent a smile to Hotch. He always hated it when people got him coffee because it never had enough sugar, or it never had the right amount of cream or whatever. Then he'd have to drink it, and it was almost always a struggle to bring it all down without gagging. But he'd do it for Hotch, of course. If he ended up actually understanding what this meetup was, maybe it would be better not to scold him on his terrible coffee choices.

Spencer took a timid sip of the liquid, holding his breath until it was in his esophagus. He coughed subtly. Definitely not enough sugar. Hotch looked at him funny, to which he just smiled again. Spencer gave him a strange look in return when a glass of water was slid across the glass counter.

"I figure it isn't kind to get drunk on a first date," Hotch replied cooly.

Spencer's face began to glow like a bright red neon advertisement buzzing and he took another charitable gulp of the warm coffee, "Oh."

2:

He hadn't been to a park for leisure in quite a long time. A long, long time. The last time he could remember was a good thirty years ago when his father hadn't yet given up on making him enjoy normal boy things like football and germ-infested swings and scraped knees and the smell of plastic mulch after it had baked under the sun for hours. Spencer supposed the training had worked, as he could never forget any of those sensations, but he still hadn't managed to remember how warm it was.

There he was; dawned in at least three layers of various pieces of clothing, and he felt as though he was in an oven. Hotch was wearing regular dad wear on the weekends, and he was jealous that he hadn't anticipated the sun. He was a bit daunted that they chose to go to a park, especially because Jack wasn't there, but it was one of the parks that had trails and things, which somehow made it worse.

Luckily, Hotch (who loved running marathons) didn't feel like walking several miles, and chose a nice bench that was next to the blistering asphalt without a tree in sight. Spencer almost audibly whined, but he carefully sat on the hot steel of the bench and adjusted his cardigan ever so slightly, as if it would make everything that much cooler outside. Which it didn't.

"Aren't you hot?" Hotch asked, eyeing Spencer cautiously.

Spencer shook his head and mumbled "I grew up in Vegas," as if that would explain it. But Hotch seemed satisfied.

They talked about many things; from first bicycle rides to profound philosophy. Most of the conversations were one-sided, as Spencer would just sit, nod, and tug at his collar as he made agreeable noises. If Hotch noticed, which he definitely and absolutely did, he didn't say anything about it.

3:

Spencer blindly followed Hotch's lead in throwing his arms up and cheering when a ball was kicked or when a goal was made. None of the soccer books or articles he'd read quite explained when to cheer and when to boo and when to not do anything because he was truly lost. It took way too much thinking, and he was jealous of the man beside him because he seemed to be able to do all of these things without thinking. It was so unfair.

Somewhere in the middle of the game, his hand was covered by Hotch's and it never left. Not when they were walking to the car, not when they drove for an hour back to their house, and it lingered for the few minutes they sat in the parking lot wondering if they could get away with staying there forever.

4:

He wondered how he always got himself into these situations. It wasn't the first time he'd had a great day just to receive the worst sentence of words that wouldn't fail to make his stomach churn and his brain overreact, but it certainly rose to the top of his Never Again Will I Let This Happen To Me list.

Spencer's task was to watch over Jack while Beth and Hotch went to train. A simple enough request, yes. He knew very well that Hotch and he were pretty much in a relationship, even if no one else but them knew that, and he also knew that Hotch was very serious about his marathons and everything. It just made him feel nauseous to see them leave together in color-coordinating athletic wear, thinking about how much of a couple they seem to be with matching clothes and similar facial structure and all the fixings of a relationship. Thinking about how people passing by would think to themselves about how cute they are, how much of a couple they are.

Once again, if Hotch noticed how uncomfortable and jealous Spencer was, he didn't show it. Spencer was confident in his reaction to the situation, making sure to even out the eye contact accordingly and keep the shakiness of his tone down to a usual vibration. It was simple enough. Beth was a wonderful woman. If things escalated, at least Hotch was happy?

He pushed those thoughts away as soon as the door closed behind them and immediately began to help Jack with his homework, telling him _the quicker we finish, the faster we'll be able to set up that camping tent in your room._ Jack had gotten the tent for Christmas a few years ago, and it had just been collecting dust in the hallway closet. Spencer mentioned that he could set it up in the boy's room and he'd bring his star lights and make an outside atmosphere for him to sleep in. Jack was elated.

It was something to take his mind off of the events of the night. Admittedly, he'd been in quite a few short-term relationships with various people of various types. All of which had been amazing people, but he'd never quite let himself relax into them. They'd only seen him when he was pretending to like coffee, or attempting to enjoy their company at seedy bars as they leaned on him and poured their hearts into his lap. In actuality, he couldn't remember a time where he'd had an orgasm with any of his partners. It was all them. That was a depressing thought; every time he'd been with people, he'd faked it. Whatever "it" was.

Eventually, Jack was curled up in his tent under the stars and Spencer was leaning against the wall in the living room, reading a book. Well, not reading, per se. He was staring at the page number and had been for a few minutes. Hotch and Beth would be back any moment, and he didn't know what he'd do when they got there. It had been about six hours that they'd been out; Hotch's trainings usually only took three. The remaining three hours could have been filled with anything—a movie, a nice dinner, a walk in the park, maybe a cocktail of all three.

He turned the page to stare at a different number just as the door opened. He stood slowly, his face contorted in a smile as he watched Hotch walk inside, waiting for him to turn and beckon Beth to come inside as well. But he just closed the door behind him and shed his shoes under the coat rack. Spencer's shoulders slumped and he frowned. He didn't know what that meant; maybe Beth was tired from all of the festivities and she was already home?

"Hey, Spencer." Hotch said, almost in a sigh, his hair matted against his forehead with sweat. "Where's Jack?"

"Asleep..." Spencer said quietly, folding the corner of a page to mark his place as he set the book on the table. "We set up the tent and he insisted he sleep right then."

Hotch chuckled and walked into the square of furniture in the living room. Spencer went to move out of his way, expecting him to slump into the chair that he was standing in front of, but Hotch gently took his wrist in his and looked at him.

"Where are you going?"

"I was..." Spencer recognized the care and worry in Hotch's eyes and shook his head, "I don't know?"

"I'm going to take a shower, because I feel as though you really need a hug," Hotch said. And with that, he was gone, leaving Spencer to swoop down and pick up the book he'd neglected with a quiet smile on his face.

5:

Spencer had anticipated everything he needed to. He wore comfortable, temperate clothes and he made sure he had a few sugar packets in his pocket, and every other thing he might need in order to be himself and not focus so much on making it seem as though he's having a great time. It was just going to Hotch's house with no unknown babysitting job, probably as a date. In fact, it was the first time he would go to Hotch's house under the pretense of a stay-in night as more than friends. That thought made the void of Ways This Could Go Wrong widen several meters worth.

He got a kiss on the cheek at the door, the first time Hotch's lips had connected with any part of him and it melted any of his concerns upon entering. Hotch complimented his clothing and offered him some water or coffee, to which Spencer excitedly pulled out sugar packets and accepted.

Spencer was surprisingly comfortable. Hotch finally seemed to notice.

"You're acting different," he said, cryptically. He had an eyebrow arched and his head propped up on his hand as he looked over at Spencer, who was leaning carelessly into the couch in the most relaxed state he'd ever seen him in.

"Different?" Spencer asked, sipping coffee mindlessly and resting the mug in the basket of his legs. No awkward crossing of his ankles, he was full-out in his comfortable place with his legs folded over themselves.

"It's a good different, I think," Hotch said thoughtfully. "You seem more relaxed."

"I am?"

"You are."

"Yes!" Spencer replied, "I really am, I think."

Hotch seemed to think about it for awhile, "You haven't been relaxed before now?"

He didn't know if he was supposed to answer with the truth or with the answer that was most likely going to terminate the conversation with a lie, but the look on Hotch's face didn't imply any anger or discomfort so he answered honestly, "Not really."

The other man nodded, "What happened on the first date that made you uncomfortable?"

Spencer was a bit hesitant to answer, but he found that he still felt ultimately fine being there with Hotch. He scooted closer to Hotch and rested his head on his shoulder, smiling to himself when an arm was draped warmly around his shoulders. "Coffee."

"You didn't like coffee?"

"Not enough sugar?" Spencer said sheepishly.

"Okay," Hotch nodded with a smile, "And that's why you brought sugar this time. What about the next time?"

"Was that when we went to the park?" Hotch nodded, "I was wearing too many clothes and it was too hot."

"We could have sat somewhere else!" Hotch laughed and rested the side of his head on top of Spencer's, "I see that you learned your lesson, though. What happened the next time?"

"I didn't know when to cheer, at that soccer game you brought me to."

"Oh, Spencer."

"I just followed along but I really didn't get the point," Spencer answered honestly, bringing his mug up to his lips again.

"And last time?"

Spencer bit his lip and shook his head, "I was jealous."

"Of who?"

"Beth."

"Oh," Hotch sighed, seeming to understand. "I guess I owe you an explanation."

"Hm?" Spencer lifted his head to look at Hotch, "What?"

"Why we were gone so long," he offered in a hopeful tone, "We went to the gym about an hour away. It was new and she really wanted to check it out. It was pretty nice down there and we took the tour before doing any actual exercise."

"Oh." The young genius breathed, "That's..."

"When I got back," Hotch continued, "I couldn't think why you were acting so strange, especially not after my shower when I gave you that hug you seemed like you needed. I guess it makes sense why you'd be a bit uncomfortable with that."

"The hug was nice," Spencer said quietly. "Much needed. I just needed to get out of there and clear my head. I was pretty jaded."

They sat in nice silence for awhile, just holding each other. Every few minutes Spencer would take a sip of his coffee or Hotch would push a stray hair from Spencer's face, but all of it was perfect and comfortable and Spencer was thankful that Hotch would stick around.


End file.
